


Seduction of a Scientist

by Miratete



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Eventual Smut, F/M, For Science!, Gender or Sex Swap, Genderbending, Imprisonment, Pampered Prisoner, Seduction, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-07 03:43:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14072154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miratete/pseuds/Miratete
Summary: When fate suddenly deposited femme!Perceptor on his doorstep on Cybertron, Shockwave knew that Primus wanted them together. Now he just had to convince the lovely scientist of how perfect she would be as his coworker, confidant, and mate.





	1. Scientist & Statesman

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Feminine Troubles](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4557732) by [Evil Overwench (Thornwitch)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thornwitch/pseuds/Evil%20Overwench). 



> The fanwork “Feminine Troubles” by author Thornwitch is a cute, mostly lighthearted story in which Primus turns all the Autobots into femmes. Suddenly there's a huge urge on the part of both factions to pair up (or trio up in some cases) and settle down to the business of ending the war and preventing the extinction of their race. Readers take heed—the E-rating is directly tied to this business.
> 
> Perceptor's story takes off in Chapter 16, in which she's been accidentally transported to Cybertron and ends up being captured by Shockwave's drones. The cyclopean scientist is quite aware of the mass Autobot Gender Swap, and to his delight it fits in very well with his plans for the planet. He's even more delighted when he finds that the femme his drones have captured is Perceptor, whose scientific work he much admires. The need for a mate has hit him as well, and his plan is to be as charming, suave, and persuasive as he can.
> 
> “Feminine Troubles” was left unfinished (sigh... but I still highly recommend reading it) and we're left with Shockwave having Perceptor repaired and cleaned up and then subjected to some lackluster small talk in chapter 20. Take note: On AO3, the story is only posted up to chapter 16, while on Fanfiction.net, it goes up to chapter 20.
> 
> I decided to write a conclusion to femme!Perceptor's adventure on Cyberton.

Perceptor eventually fell into recharge upon the plain berth, only to be woken the next morning by a knock at the door of the small, simple room she'd been placed in. A moment later, one of Shockwave's personal drones entered, marked as one of a higher rank by the purple banding around his Decepticon insignia. “We are taking you to meet with Shockwave again,” announced the faceless thing.

“Am I to be released?”

The drone did not answer, already on his way out into the hallway.

Perceptor rose and followed the drone out, finding several other drones in the hallway. Again there were seekers there to stare at her, leering from the back of the group. The bright green one seemed especially pleased to see her.

The group moved down the hall, following the chief drone. “Tell me, will I be allowed to contact my party on Earth?” asked Perceptor hopefully.

“That would be Shockwave's decision,” came the flat answer from the chief drone.

“They may request demands for my release,” Perceptor told them. “A prisoner exchange might be most prudent.”

“Again, that is up to Shockwave, Glorious Guardian of Cybertron.”

“Yes I see, but...”

The chief drone paused in transit and turned to her. “You are an Autobot guest. Those questions are only to be answered by Shockwave.”

Perceptor sighed. This was indeed frustrating. But something told her that she would not be harmed. In fact there had been a decided care taken with her person. Perhaps Cybertron's steward had more in mind for her than simply using her as a bargaining pawn.

Most of her treatment indicated it. Why else would he have bothered to have her repaired? None of the injuries she had sustained in capture were spark-threatening or even serious. She would have survived easily on the efficiency of her own self-repair systems. But then she'd been washed and her plating tended to, leaving it in better shape than it had been in a long as she could remember. A multitude of tiny drones had been dedicated to it, swarming over her frame for more than a cycle to deposit wax and then buff it to a brilliant shine.

And why else had Shockwave spent so much time talking to her? It wasn't gloating or threatening talk either. It was small talk. And while his pointless chatter left her far from charmed, he was obviously trying to be nice. And to what ends? It took effort to talk. If Shockwave were just going to execute or exchange her it would have been so much simpler just to leave her locked up somewhere.

“Shockwave is inside,” said the chief drone, cutting off Perceptor's train of thought as he turned suddenly and halted before a door. The broad door slid open and Percceptor was ushered inside.

It wasn't Shockwave's control hub—the place she'd been taken to the previous day—but some other center of operations, and Perceptor soon realized that he was looking at the base of operations for Shockwave's science projects. The scientist himself stood at the far end of the room near a large window, obviously waiting to meet them. “Ah, Perceptor. I trust that you are well rested,” he said with a certain cheer as the group entered.

It wasn't a rhetorical question. Nor was it 'villain gloating' that Perceptor still somehow expected. The cyclops actually seemed to be expecting an answer.

“Why yes, as a matter of fact I am. In fact I must say that so far your hospitality has been quite surprising, considering my position.” The seekers that had come in to gawk at the prisoner yesterday had even been chased away.

Shockwave chuckled lightly. The previous day had been only a stalling tactic—a soft pause to warm her up to the idea that things would happen at a gentle pace around here—to ready her for the coming courtship. It wouldn't do if she were stressed or fearing for her life. It wouldn't do if she were unnerved by the fear of hacking or torture.

“You, my dear, are a most surprising guest.” The big purple mech came forward and to Perceptor's continued surprise he took the microscope's hands and held them as an old friend would. “I'm still amazed at this unexpected transformation. You look a lot different from the last time I saw you though.”

“I am sure you've heard of our most recent developments.”

“Quite a bit, though many of the details have been left out.”

“And I suppose that you're looking for answers as to the why and how. I tell you this though, that I don't know and we haven't even investigated. The Will of Primus is enough understanding for us.”

Shockwave chuckled again, and he actually sounded amused, and not in some sick, menacing way. “Perceptor, you have nothing to fear. I suppose you've been imagining that I'm about to strap you to a table in my laboratories and perform all manner of unholy experiments upon you in my quest for knowledge. I'm certain other unpleasant things have come to mind as well, given your new...” His muzzle hand gestured down at her frame. “...your new physical state. However, I assure you that that is not my intent. I've heard and learned enough from Megatron's contingent as well as from some of my own spies, to simply accept this as you do—as the Will of Primus.”

“You would guarantee my safety and well-being then?”

“As long as you are my guest here, you need not fear. And in time I am sure you will be returned to your own faction.”

This was wonderful news, though there had to be much more to it. “Will I be able to contact them before that? To let them know I am alive?”

“Yes, you will be allowed to contact them. I would allow you the use of a communications console right now, but regrettably we are past the daily window of opportunity. Tomorrow though. I guarantee that as well.”

Perceptor was indeed quite surprised. This had not been at all what she'd been expecting.

“So until that time, I shall torture you with a long and probably rather dull tour of my main laboratory and afterward force you to ingest a cube of energon. Later there may be a painful view of the sunset along with an equally tortuous serving of high-grade. And if you should survive all that, know that only a cosy and thickly padded berth awaits you in a moderately heated room, before the whole miserable process begins again tomorrow.”

Perceptor blinked. Shockwave was being funny? His sarcasm was a little entertaining if it were just sarcasm.

“Come, let me show you my facilities, here,” said Shockwave congenially. His hand moved to Perceptor's shoulder and guided her gently toward the window, his nozzle hand gesturing out. “May I present my laboratory.” 

Perceptor was stunned. While the room beyond and below was barely lit, it was illuminated enough to reveal a huge, factory-like space filled with scientific equipment, projects under construction, and experiments underway. The sheer scope of it was overwhelming—overwhelming enough to have Perceptor speechless once more.

“Well?” Shockwave prompted eventually.

“It's... it's amazing,” Perceptor stuttered. The room stretched on and on.

“Come downstairs. I'll show you more.”

-o-o-o-o-o-

For the next five cycles Perceptor and Shockwave toured the enormous laboratory, viewing Shockwave's work. Sometimes the Decepticon would hurry Perceptor past a station, saying something along the lines of “Not until the war's over” or “Only if you switch your allegiance.” At others, Shockwave would pull Perceptor in and explain the workings before her in detail only a true scientist would appreciate.

It became obvious to Perceptor that Shockwave was trying his best to charm her now, not with an appeal of personality, but with an appeal to her own scientific leanings. And even on recognizing this, Perceptor still found herself drifting into a deep admiration of the Decepticon's work.

And the further along they progressed the closer Shockwave stood and the more physical contact he made with the Autobot. Until at last when Shockwave suggested fueling, he escorted Perceptor out of the enormous laboratory on his arm. If Shockwave had a mouth it would have been smiling broadly. Step three of his seduction was complete and so far everything was going to plan. Make her feel safe and at ease, and then dazzle her with an appeal to her intellectual sensibilities.

And most importantly, Perceptor was reacting in the anticipated manner. 

He led the rosy femme out of his immense workroom and through a few corridors and then up an elevator to what appeared to be a more residential area of his headquarters. There, on an external balcony a table had been set for them, a place with a view of Tarn and an impending sunset.

“Well this is certainly elegant,” said Perceptor, taking the seat offered by the attending drone. This servant was of a domestic design, unlike the guards and workers she'd seen previously—smaller, unarmed, bipedal, almost friendly-looking. Her optics flitted to the tablecloth which was made of a woven organic fabric rather than the usual plastic fibers. A low bouquet of crystal flowers formed a centerpiece, and while the pale pink blossoms were hand-constructed of individual crystals rather than grown whole, their appearance was both a luxury and a delight.

“And intimate...” Perceptor continued as Shockwave sat in the opposing chair. The table was not large. For a moment she'd thought that she would be sitting alone, but apparently they were to refuel together.

A second domestic drone came forth and served them each three small cubes of energon, each resting on a square plate of kiln-hardened clay. How long had it been since she'd had her energon on a plate? And these were ceramic plates nonetheless—a relic of the past when art and artists thrived. The drone opened the seals on the six cubes and a charged mineral aroma floated forth from each. “Flavored?” Perceptor queried.

Shockwave nodded.

“Perhaps things aren't as bad on Cybertron as I'd thought.”

“They are as bad as you think. But this...” He paused and looked at his prisoner approvingly. “This is a special occasion.”

“Special?” Perceptor leaned forward to draw the scent of the offered fuel across her olfactory sensors.

“It isn't every day that I get to entertain one of the foremost Cybertronian scientists. Not to mention the prettiest.”

Perceptor stared at the Decepticon. He was back to small talk, only now with a different bent. “You flatter me unreasonably,” she answered. There are far greater Cybertronian intellects than myself. And as for appearances...”

“You're far too modest,” interjected Shockwave. He placed his regular hand over one of the cubes and the level of energon inside of it lowered. “Perhaps there once were greater minds and more successful intellects, but they've been lost. You and I are what remains.”

“So we are winners by default. There's little sense of accomplishment in that.” Perceptor countered. Everything felt one step away from flirtatious banter.

Shockwave laughed and the sound seemed awkward, as if he'd not laughed in vorns if not millevorns. “Again, you're too modest. Now as for your looks...”

“You're too ready to compliment.” Perceptor picked up the rightmost cube and sipped from it, the flavors of molybdenum and argon splashing over the chemical sensors within her mouth. “Oh! Delicious!” she exclaimed.

“One of my favorites,” said Shockwave in a softer tone of voice.

Perceptor drank further, and on putting the empty cube back onto its plate noticed that Shockwave had his hand over the next cube and was draining it.

“So what did you think of my laboratory overall?” he asked.

“A most impressive facility. I could lose myself for days in a workroom like that, flitting from one experiment to the next.”

“Would you like to?”

Perceptor's reaching for the next cube drew to an abrupt halt. “Excuse me?”

“Perceptor, I have researched your previous work when here on Cybertron and seen some of your accomplishments since your waking on Earth. Your talents would be a highly complementary addition to my own endeavors.”

Perceptor suddenly stood. “If you are asking me to change factions, I will tell you now that I refuse.” She took the middle cube and drank it defiantly. If the other scientist's hospitality was about to come to a sudden end, and going into it fully fueled would be a wise idea.

Shockwave remained calm and unnaturally relaxed. “Your defection would be a delight, but if Megatron and Optimus can work to end the hostilities in light of this recent development, then defection would not be necessary.” His expressionless faceplate tilted at a playful angle.

Perceptor's sighing response was tinged with bitterness. “Megatron has yet to present us with a reasonable peace treaty. So far all the ones he's offered have read more like 'terms of your surrender.' We may have changed and we may be a bit distracted by that, but I assure you that we're still all fully mentally competent.”

“I realize the Emperor's shortcomings,” said Shockwave, his tone almost apologetic.

“You do?”

The cyclops pulled a data pad from a pocket. “I have drafted my own version of a peace treaty. There are no true statesmen amongst the Decepticon contingent upon Earth, so I was going to submit this to them within the next orn. If you wish to read it over and comment... or perhaps advise me on a few changes. He handed the document over to Perceptor. “I am willing to adjust it to be more to an Autobot's preference.” 

This was a delightful surprise. Eagerly Perceptor began to read. And as she read Shockwave studied her. She was so intelligent and so beautiful. He'd seen pictures of the changed enemy, and had found himself enjoying what he'd seen. But there had not been any good video captures of her and he'd expected little when he learned the identity of the prisoner seized by his security drones. But this... A mind equal to his own carried in such a delicious little frame. Who knew she would turn out to be so physically appealing on making the change? His wildest fantasies had her approving his draft, throwing all caution to the wind, and leaping upon him in a sudden-found passion, the pretty thing begging to share both his laboratory and his berth.

But without the veil of fantasy over them, she sat quietly, sipping at the final cube of energon, completely engrossed in his draft of a peace treaty. And when she'd read it, she asked for a work console so as to make some adjustments.

Shockwave had anticipated this. On his command a drone brought out a keyboard and the Autobot connected it to the datapad, and she soon was deeply involved with editing the document.

Shockwave continued to watch as the fellow intellect worked, completely ignoring the beautiful sunset and the lighting of the flame-lamps along the balcony, touches he'd hoped would sway the scientist's emotional state to a more romantic one. But he didn't want to interrupt her. From what he observed now, the bright glimmer of a forthcoming peace would do the work of the strongest aphrodisiac. Sunsets and torchlights were the thing of romance fantasy novels. Diplomacy and the chance to have a lasting effect were the reality.

Eventually Perceptor finished, smiling and sighing as she disconnected the datapad and handed it back to Shockwave. “There. See what you think,” she said proudly. And then she looked about the balcony. “Oh, it's gotten dark. You should have said something,”she exclaimed.

“You were so intent on your work that I didn't wish to disturb you.” He leaned his faceless head into one hand and admired her yet again. She was definitely a delicious subject.

Ignoring his gaze, Perceptor stood and stretched.

“Would you like more energon? I do have a special distillation of high-grade that I would be willing to share on this special occasion,” Shockwave offered.

“Perhaps a little more...” She said, looking out over the darkened landscape that was Tarn. Few lights shone in the abandoned streets. “Your chemical blends and refinement processes are quite different from those we've been utilizing on Earth.”

Shockwave turned and nodded to the domestic drone, who went into the building. And then he placed the datapad into his subspace. “I hope you will not be offended if I do not read your changes and suggestions until tomorrow. It's been a long day here, and I've had a lot to deal with. But I promise to read it first thing tomorrow after I've recharged. Perhaps while you contact your faction.”

The rosy lips smiled. “I suppose it can wait.”

The drone suddenly reappeared with two small cubes of high-grade that glowed an ominous orange color.

“Ah... for you! Something else special.”

“What is it?”

“Try it.”

Perceptor lifted the cube to her mouth and sipped, gasping on feeling the partially crystallized high-grade bursting across her glossa. “Oh! That's wonderful!” she exclaimed.

“My own blend, but still a rarity around here,” Shockwave said gently, his spark spinning with excitement. Everything was going so well.

-o-o-o-o-o-

"Seduction of a Scientist" continues in Chapter 2: "Contact & Kaon"

-o-o-o-o-o-


	2. Contact & Kaon

Shockwave showed his tipsy guest to a berthroom along the balcony where they had been fueling, and it had been more than just a showing. Perceptor was somewhat unsteady on her feet after that final bit of high-grade. He'd had to steady her twice before even reaching the outer doorway.

“Maybe I shouldn't have had a third cube... I know they were small, but...” Perceptor had felt the charge rise in her systems but had been unable to resist the taste and texture of the orange-hued fuel. Perfection! Even here on Cybertron. She'd not been able to put the first one down after sampling it. Worse yet she'd been unable to refuse when the drone had brought more.

Shockwave guided her to the heavily-cushioned bed and helped her onto it, tidying her uncooperative limbs and placing a pillow beneath her head. “Anything else you'd like?” he asked, still leaning over her and hoping to Primus that she was thinking inappropriate thoughts of him.

“This is the nicest brig I've ever been in,” Perceptor giggled.

“You're not in the brig, Persis,” Shockwave replied, using an ancient feminine variant of her name.

“Well that explains the window.”

“And the doors.”

“Doors? So I can leave if I want?”

“You can, though you won't be able to get far. You're restricted to this level. However you shall find everything you need on this floor, and nothing on it is locked.” He gestured with his weaponized hand to the main door of the small suite—not the one they'd entered from. “The hallway is right outside there and whatever you might want. Including the door to my quarters.”

“Your quarters? Unlocked?”

“Yes. The yellow door on the other side of the hallway. Why should I need to lock it?”

“Because I'm an Autobot! I'm the enemy.” And then she burst into giggles. “I might just sneak into your quarters and... and...”

Shockwave drew in his hands in mimicked horror. “I'd be helpless to defend myself or even to resist. But you're an honorable sort, and a like intellect. I doubt I have anything to fear from you. Besides... I do have a little distraction for you.”

He nodded and one of his many domestic drones approached from the balcony. “This drone will keep you company tonight. Anything you need, all you have to do is ask. Any way you wish to be served, it shall comply.”

“So if I need another drink? Or if I'd like my plating buffed again?”

“You have only to ask it.”

“Can it...? If I wanted it to...?” Perceptor giggled again. “Oh I can't believe I almost asked that!” She flopped back onto the berth and wriggled into a comfortable position, looking so innocent in some ways and so worldly in others.

Shockwave's field flared in response and he fought to the urge to touch her. The unasked question had been obvious. “You can ask for anything. These drones are able to entertain in the most skilled manner,” he said in a low tone.

“Really...” Her optics moved to take in the servant.

“And if you find them lacking—again, my door is the yellow one just down the hall.”

“What if I ask it to help me escape.”

Shockwave chuckled. “Well, if you wish it the drone will comply. The exit's the yellow door just down the hall.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Perceptor woke at sunrise but she lay in the berth for a long time staring at the panels of the ceiling. This room didn't have the same sensor suites as her previous night's accommodations. When she began to stir, the domestic drone lying beside her rose, went to the cupboard next to room's hallway door, took a datapad from inside it, and then presented it to her. A note had been left for her by Shockwave.

"I shall be in my workshops attending to business. I have reviewed your changes to the peace treaty, and I find them to be both thoughtful and prudent. I would like to discuss a few further points before submitting the document to our faction leaders. When you are ready for such, please send a message to me through the communications station in your room."

Getting up, she noticed there was indeed a personal communications console behind her in the room, finding it operational for in-house transmissions. Then she noticed her berthmate of the previous night warming up the water in an attached washroom. When the font was steaming she was beckoned in.

The domestic drone bathed her gently, dried her off, and touched up her polish. And then she was set free to meet Shockwave.

-o-o-o-o-o-

In the control hub, the two sat side by side going over the treaty after greetings and a few flattering comments from Shockwave. Admittedly the Autobot scientist was having a hard time believing that she “looked lovelier than Crystal City” and that her optics “sparkled like cut sapphires.” Was that really the sort of thing mechs told femmes they were courting? She'd never courted one in earlier days, and had certainly never been the one being courted.

Eventually they finished the changes to the treaty, applied their personal glyphs to the document, and prepared it for submission to their superiors.

Shockwave looked pleased. “I appreciate your assistance with that. I consider this our first project together, and hopefully just the first of many, many more.”

“Perhaps,” was all Perceptor could say.

Shockwave moved right on. “The communications window will be open in three breems. Have you considered what you wish to tell your faction?”

Perceptor looked a little startled. She would get to decide?

“Well... I suppose just the basics—that I'm being held here by you, but that I'm in no distress and have no need of medical attention.” She looked up again at the tall purple mech, suddenly noting that his dull gloss of the previous day had been replaced with a shinier polish. “May I have some idea of when they can expect my release?”

“That decision would be Megatron's to make,” he informed her. And then his head cocked slightly to the side. “I hope it won't be too soon.” His standard hand slipped into hers and he led her over to the large communications console. “Go ahead and set up the frequencies you wish to send on. I have a few more things to attend to before the window of opportunity opens.” And with that he turned and moved elsewhere in the room, leaving Perceptor relatively alone and unsupervised, again much to her surprise.

But then again, he seemed intent on surprising her in pleasant ways at every turn...

-o-o-o-o-o-

“Perceptor, come,” instructed Shockwave when the transmissions had been sent. Each faction had received a copy of the 'Kaon Draft' as the two were now calling it. And Perceptor had been given plenty of time to speak with the Autobots—to let them know that she was all right. Prowl seemed to be dropping hints that a rescue would be forthcoming. Skyfire had been particularly worried, but was full of particular news regarding her change of state.

“Back to my cell?” Perceptor half-asked, half-teased.

“If you'd prefer. I was going to take you out to see Kaon. At least what there is of it worth seeing.”

“Another tour? Aren't you worried that I might end up taking home too many of your secrets?”

Shockwave took her hand. “Not secrets. Things I want to share with you. If you decide to share them with your faction, that is your decision.” The Decepticon smiled inside. He was improving exponentially at this courting and seduction thing. “I mostly want you to know how much I've been working toward the restoration of Cybertron. There was little else to do during Megatron's fifty millevorn absence, you know.”

Perceptor held her vocalizer. According to the female Autobots, Shockwave had kept plenty busy harassing the few Autobot enclaves left on the broken planet.

“Come.”

Accompanied by several security drones, the two entered an elevator which lowered them to surface level. There in a street-level garage they boarded a small ground transport craft. Shockwave took the helm and they were immediately underway. “I have done what I can to improve the state of things in Kaon, particularly in regards to the infrastructure. I'm sure you know that your faction bombed here heavily during the Outer Kaon Offensive.”

“Yes, of course,” was the unenthused answer.

“I've repaired most of the critical inner roadways. And the skyways have been my priority for the past ten millevorns. Unfortunately the process has been slow due to the lack of energy and resources.”

“Understandably.”

“Thankfully at times I have had access to a few off-world energy sources, which have enabled rebuilding to the extent you see now.” He gestured out at mostly intact area of the city. And then he stopped the transport and on foot he led the way to an urban canyon, its dark void criss-crossed by numerous bridges and skyways. In one area a bridge was obviously undergoing extensive rebuilding, its length alive with workers and welders. “That bridge is the only project I have going at present. Megatron's current agenda has focused my efforts elsewhere. But once the treaty is accepted and the restoration period begins, there will be dozens if not hundreds of teams like that one at work. Here and in other cities.”

“May I see one of your rebuilt bridges up close?” asked Perceptor after staring out at the urban canyon for some time.

“Of course,” answered Shockwave, pleased that the femme was interested. “There is actually one just a short walk away. Accompanied still by the drones, he led the way along the edge of the canyon and down a passageway to another level. “This one was reconstructed only seven orns ago—a very recent project.”

Perceptor stepped out onto the bridge, examining the structure. While engineering was more of Huffer's thing, she knew enough to see that the bridge's rebuilding was more than just a stop-gap measure. Lifting out a small paving plate, she transformed into her alt-mode and studied it under her scope.

Shockwave stared, fighting the sudden and desperate urge to run over to her, place his hand and muzzle upon her beautiful frame, and peer through her scope. She wasn't just a scientist. She was science itself! He had known plenty of researchers over his long career, but most had such mundane alt-modes. Jets. Runabouts. Shuttles. Transports. Perceptor's devotion to her craft was resolute. She had given up her major mobility in order to facilitate her scientific exploration.

And Shockwave loved it.

Tonight, before he enacted the final steps of his plan, he would have to visit the shrine he kept in his headquarters and offer his most sincere thanks to Primus for the gift he'd been sent. And there too he would offer final prayers—prayers that Perceptor would find herself as enamored of him as he was of her—that she would surrender to him and all he had to offer—that they would unite in peace as so many of the others had.

-o-o-o-o-o-

"Seduction of a Scientist" concludes in Chapter 3: "Shock & Awe"

-o-o-o-o-o-


	3. Chapter 3

That evening, a cycle after returning from the tour of Kaon, Shockwave again took his guest to the balcony where the intimate table awaited. This time a huge single crystal flower adorned the table, its rosy blossom set upon an intricate metal stand. And Perceptor couldn't help but notice that its color matched her plating. That had to be more than coincidental.

She sat, and one of the domestic drones brought three small cubes of energon for her and another three for Shockwave. The flavors were different from the previous night, and Shockwave watched as she sampled each. “Well?” he prompted.

Perceptor smiled at him as she picked up the silver bromide one to consume first. “They're all delicious. Are you sure things are really that bad here on Cybertron?”

“You've seen what lies outside of the base. There is much to be done, and with such limited resources. But I do want to restore this planet.” There was definitely something of passion in his voice.

“You've done magnificently with what you have. It can't have been easy.”

“It hasn't,” Shockwave affirmed. “I'm guardian of an entire planet, and I'm significantly understaffed.”

“But I see that you're trying.” Perceptor gave her keeper an encouraging smile, at which is single optic glowed brighter.

And as they refueled, Perceptor stared out at the view, and this time did not fail to miss the sunset or the lighting of the lamps. And it seemed strange that within the rubble of Kaon this tiny island of near perfection existed. Shockwave had maintained a final semblance of civilization far above the emptiness of Kaon. Though their dinner was interrupted twice by arriving seekers descending upon the balcony with the pettiest of reasons. The blue one even helped himself to some of Shockwave's high-grade while the green one kept the guardian distracted, drinking it with cocky glances at Perceptor and suggestions of what would make a perfect Autobot/Decepticon peace treaty—suggestions that were more suggestive than helpful.

After the meal and more light conversation, Shockwave escorted Perceptor once again to her room. She was less inebriated than the previous night, having poured some of her high-grade into her keeper's cup after it had been drained by the impertinent seeker. He called forth the chamber drone with a happy chuckle.

Perceptor felt a fluttering inside. “Your drone... last night...” Perceptor began as the metal servant sat beside her on the berth. “Seemed to lack certain programming.”

“Yes?” Shockwave grinned inside. This might be it...

“It... well... It left me wanting in the berth.”

“Oh? Did it not bring you to overload?”

Perceptor suddenly felt embarrassed. “Well, how shall I put this...?”

“The drones don't have spikes, if that's to what you're referring,” said the cyclops, standing in the doorway that separated the berthroom from the balcony outside. He lifted his arm, and a second drone entered. “I did build them for my own service and entertainment, and I'm not much of a valve mech. But it did manage to overload you, correct?”

“Yes,” answered Perceptor modestly.

“Well then.”

The second drone sat upon the berth and in unison the two machines began to fondle and massage her plating, shortly having her sprawled upon her back as multiple hands caressed and teased. Perceptor tried to hold back, but she was soon whimpering and moaning without a care, lost to tactile pleasure.

Shockwave leaned against the door frame, silhouetted by the lights on the balcony, watching in voyeuristic delight as the two drones worked her quickly into ecstasy. Their touch brought his precious guest to an overload

“Seems like they do just fine for you without a spike,” he observed aloud when she'd recovered herself somewhat. Not only did they not have spikes, the ones she'd been assigned had been programmed to not even penetrate her with their fingers.

Perceptor sat up with a cry of embarrassment. “I thought... I thought you'd gone,” she stammered.

“And miss such a beautiful scene?”

Perceptor would have protested were it not for the drones starting up again, their hands stroking her neck cabling and every sensor node they could find. Only this time they kept her turned toward the door where her jailer stood leering at the display before him. “Definitely beautiful,” he rumbled approvingly.

And then he summoned a third domestic drone. But instead of having it join the other two, he kept it in the doorway, where to Perceptor's shock and titillation she was made to watch her keeper amuse himself with the new arrival, his sexual prowess played out in silhouette.

And it was amazing.

Trembling on her way to another overload, Perceptor moaned and writhed, her optics unable to pull away from the show before her. Though not that the two drones had to hold her in place. Her optics were willingly locked on to Shockwave's undulating frame. And now she understood why her keeper was not a valve mech, not with that magnificent spike he possessed. The dark length and triple-lobed head gleamed with chromium accents—a build far more impressive that what her previous physique had possessed. And beyond aesthetics the guardian apparently knew how to use it. He held the drone tightly about its hips, grinding deeply and slowly into its valve.

Panting with desire and every pressure node inside her own valve aching with neglect, Perceptor stared in helpless awe as beads of pink lubricant dripped from the drone's plush valve lips and rolled down heated metal to the floor. And the show continued, the pair at play in the doorway until at last Shockwave overloaded, his groans of pleasure reverberating against the walls of the guest room. He thrust hard into the moist depths, milking his orgasm, until his movement became erratic and silvery transfluid leaked out alongside the lubricant.

Perceptor couldn't have prevented her own overload at that point if she'd tried. The touch of the two drones in the berth with her was enough to bring her to a second climax, but the added visual stimulation of watching Shockwave prove himself all too sexually competent and compatible, along with the delicious sounds of squelching mesh and clanging metal and whirring cooling fans, was too much. She erupted with a broken cry, no longer able to contain the heat and pressure and charge that had been coiling up in her frame despite the emptiness of her valve.

Giddy with post-overload euphoria and lust, Shockwave left his toy behind and staggered across the room to an equally-euphoric Perceptor where she sprawled on the berth. He waved away her drones with his muzzle hand. The pair moved off to the side of the room and Shockwave oozed onto the bed.

The rosy-red femme, shaking and twitching her way through the last of her overload, her plating steaming and crackling with static, was a gorgeous sight—as beautiful as the moment he'd first seen her brought into the compound looking disheveled and frightened; as beautiful as she'd appeared at their first fueling with the lamplight flickering across her plating and her faceplate illuminated by the orange glow of his high-grade; as beautiful as she'd been in microscope mode studying the decking of one of his rebuilt bridges.

“Persis...” he whispered when her optics on-lined, using the pet form of her name again.

“Shockwave?”

The cyclops leaned in closely, his yellow eye glowing upon Perceptor's plating. “Do you need spiking?” he asked with a sensuous purr. He pressed his prominent chest against her frame, his weight pushing her into the soft padding of the berth. “I can do everything that the drones can't.” He turned, his single yellow optic falling on the drones, and the three left the room.

“You could?” Perceptor gasped at the idea. “You could...”

“I'm so charged and ready for you. Just give me the word, Persis, and I'll be the one to perform for you. I'll be everything you could want in mate.”

Perceptor whimpered at the implications in his words. She did want her captor. She wanted to surrender to him in this moment of pleasure. Of all Decepticons, he could give her what she most wanted, and well beyond the intimate union her frame was pleading for. There was so much potential for them as a team. His intellect. Her vision. His resources. Her balance. Their scientific talent united. Their combined efforts would overcome the difficulties of rebuilding. Their achievements would begin the restoration of Cybertron followed by a second golden age, at least where the sciences were concerned. Their offspring would form the core of a new intelligentsia.

This had to happen. They had to come together—physically, emotionally, and intellectually. This was far and above the childish sexual shenanigans of the Twins and the seekers. It was unlike the political posturing that pervaded the mating dance between Optimus and Megatron. This was more critical than the romantic or not so romantic relationships the forces on Earth found themselves pursuing.

But one thing held her back...

“You're a Decepticon,” Perceptor panted against the purple frame even as she felt the distinct sensation of a hand sliding up one thigh and down the other.

“Yes, of course.”

“I can't.”

“Most of our factionmates have been overlooking that awkward reality,” he reminded her.

“I'm not among them.”

The yellow optic roved her faceplate. “I understand that your fellow researcher, Skyfire, is pregnant by Starscream and Megatron.”

“I know, but...” Perceptor found herself burning with a deeper desire. Yes, the other Autobots were already hooking up, treaty or no. And she couldn't help but feel a bit of jealousy that they'd found male partners to interface with and soothe this discomfort of their metamorphosis.

“It's only a matter of time before your Prime accepts our glorious emperor as her mate.”

“I suppose they will—something of political marriage to cement the peace. Like it used to be done in the old days.”

“Soundwave even has a couple of femmes in mind. He tells me they've begun to consider his proposition with some seriousness.”

“Really?” Perceptor was at first surprised to hear this, but then found herself stifling a sigh. Even stoic old Soundwave wasn't going to be left out.

“Persis, let me be yours,” Shockwave begged. “Let me be the mech in your life. You know that your talent and your abilities would be wasted with anyone else.” The Cyclops' hand was probing most persuasively between her thighs now, and it was all she could do to keep from parting them.

“The treaty... Once the treaty's agreed upon,” she pleaded.

“They will agree upon it. You know they will. You and I crafted it to perfection,” he encouraged.

“But they haven't agreed upon it yet...”

Her protest was cut short by the slide of a hand up her plating to press against the burning heat in her still-open pelvic array. “Give yourself to me,” Shockwave whispered. “The Kaon Draft will be accepted There will be nothing but peace between us.”

Unable to fend off her own desires any longer, Perceptor spread her legs apart. “Yes.”

Immediately Shockwave climbed atop her and pressed his thick spike into her valve, the pliable red mesh already drenched with lubricants and pulsing in eagerness.

Perceptor cried out, arching her back at the sudden and overwhelming sensation as the cyclops' spike penetrated deeply. “Shockwave! Oh!” she cried aloud. “You're... Oh! Shockwave!”

Fulfillment. Yes, fulfillment.

And then there was a bright flash and sizzling electrical sound above her, and suddenly Shockwave collapsed, his limp heavy frame falling atop hers.

-o-o-o-o-o-

“I assure you all that Shockwave was not forcing himself upon me,” declared Perceptor to her rescue party as they hustled her through the hallways to Shockwave's control room, the team easily downing the drones on night patrol. The seekers were nowhere to be seen.

“It sure looked like he was,” huffed Chromia.

“So you were willing?” asked Firestar.

Perceptor's denta clenched hard. “Yes. And things were going very nicely until someone hit him with a null ray.”

“My bad,” giggled Moonracer.

Perceptor glared at her.

“We were sent to find and rescue you, and had no way of knowing things were going 'quite so well',” said Elita One.

“But now that we've started, we're just going to have to finish,” said Chromia with a snerk of laughter. “I'm sure your new boyfriend isn't going to be too happy about this.”

“He's not the only one,” muttered Perceptor quietly.

Only Firestar heard. “I'm sure you'll be able to make up with him later. Probably from a safe distance at first,” she assured their rescuee.

“Probably...” Perceptor sighed again as they entered the space bridge that would take them all back to Earth.

-o-o-o-o-o-

It probably was for the best that they'd been interrupted. Perceptor really hadn't wanted to consummate with Shockwave until the treaty was in effect. It would be a wonderful finish to the peace process—a reward they could both look forward to. And thanks to this unwanted rescue they still had it to look forward to.

Shockwave hadn't simply been trying to seduce her into his berth—there had been more than sexual intent running through his processors. Together they had shaped the Kaon Draft to perfection, and it would be accepted. Sooner or later the two factions would be at peace. And Perceptor found herself smiling as she thought of everything the purple mech could offer in the new alliance—his laboratory, his intellect, his support.

...And that fabulous spike she'd only gotten the slightest sampling of.

-o-o-o-o-o-  
-o-o-o-  
-o-

The End

-o-  
-o-o-o-  
-o-o-o-o-o-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for enjoying my story. Again, I do recommend reading the story that inspired this one—Thornwitch's “Feminine Troubles.” It's delightful.
> 
> Sidenote: I got to use one of my favorite lines from the TF fandom in this most recent chapter. I found this little humorous re-mash/re-dub on YouTube by Dr. Smoov by the name of “Shockwave's Burden.” I laugh every time I hear Shockwave say this particular line. If you check out the video, you'll recognize what I'm talking about.


End file.
